“Starting with his PI databases. He can tap into a lot of things. Lee called in a couple hours ago. Asked me to let him know if Coltrane surfaces. He doin’ this favor for you?”
Pause for answer.
I kept my mouth shut.
“What’s goin’ on?” Hank was losing his good-natured, business-like voice and was lapsing into his stern-older-brother voice. “Why are you and Lee looking for the same guy?”
Rule Number One in the India Savage Life Code: When in doubt or possible trouble, lie.
“Don’t know. Listen, Hank, can you call me first if you hear anything about Rosie? And then forget about it for about an hour or two or twenty before calling Lee?”
“Not if you don’t tell me what this is about.”
Like brother, like brother. Stubborn to the last.
“Forget it. See you Saturday at Dad’s barbeque.”
“You comin’ with Lee?’
“No, I’m not coming with Lee. I’m pretty sure we’ll be broken up by then. Later.”
I hung up and opened the phone book on my cell. I scrolled down to Lee, took a big breath and punched the button that would call Lee, a button I’d never punched before in my life.
He answered after one ring. “Yeah?”
“Lee? It’s Indy.”
A customer walked up and asked for a double espresso and I gave him a one minute finger and Jane started banging the portafilter against the sink to loosen the last pot of grounds.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Fortnum’s.”
“I thought I told you to stay at the condo.”
As if I ever did what I was told.
“I have a business and I’m down two employees. I had to come to work.”
“Less than twenty-four hours ago, people were shootin’ at you.”
Hmm, he sounded pissed off.
“Jane can’t handle the store in the morning all alone, she’ll go meltdown.”
Why was I explaining myself to him?
“Listen, you have to stop Kitty Sue, she’s telling everyone we’re together.”
“We are together.”
“We’re not together.”
“Who has she told?”
“Dad, Marianne Meyer, Hank, God knows who else. This is getting out of hand. It has to stop.”
“Mom didn’t tell Hank, I told Hank.”